


The Twelve Sweaters of Christmas

by Cerdic519



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Christmas, Happy Ending, M/M, Sweaters
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-12-25
Updated: 2014-01-05
Packaged: 2018-01-06 02:14:36
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 12
Words: 4,407
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1101178
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Cerdic519/pseuds/Cerdic519
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Castiel is restored to his powers again, but Dean remains oblivious to the angel's true feelings for him. Sam, tired of his brother's indifference, hatches a plan....</p><p>A destiel Christmas fic, inspires by Misha's inimitable sweaters.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. A Partridge In A Pear Tree

Sam Winchester was a lawyer by trade and by nature, so he was a devious bastard when the need arose (and since he was Dean Winchester's brother, that need arose pretty often!). But having his brother and his brother’s angel back under the bunker’s roof for the festive season was slowly but surely driving him nuts! The way Castiel would look at Dean as if imploring the elder Winchester to understand how he felt, whilst his useless lummocks of a brother remained cheerfully oblivious. Sam could feel the angel’s pain, and often wondered why Castiel didn’t just give up and head back to Heaven, abandoning Dean like he deserved. Instead he just stayed and moped, until the younger Winchester could stand it no longer.  
   
He began to scheme….

+~+~+

The sheer isolation of the bunker meant that getting regular mail was difficult. The mailman usually left their mail at the garage, and Castiel would swing by there on his regular morning jog. To Sam’s surprise (and relief) he went out on Christmas Day itself, and came back with a medium-sized box, wrapped in green and yellow Christmas paper.  
   
“Whatcha got there, Cas?” Dean asked through a mouthful of bacon.  
   
“Someone sent me a present”, the angel said, clearly surprised.   
   
“Let's see it, then”, Sam prompted, swallowing a grin.  
   
Castiel began to slowly unwrap the parcel, as if he were afraid it might explode on him. Dean snorted in impatience.  
   
“Before New Year would be good!”  
   
“I like the anticipation”, Castiel said huffily, carefully folding the discarded paper. Dean moved as if to stamp on it, but a warning look from the angel dissuaded him. Sam stifled a chuckle.   
   
At last the wrapping was off, and Castiel lifted the top off the box. He pulled out the contents - and gasped in delight. It was a sweater, patterned in green, gold, brown and yellow autumn leaves.  
   
“Not another bloody sweater!” Dean snorted.   
   
“I love it!” Castiel said excitedly.   
   
“I wonder if there’s a bird in there somewhere”, Sam mused.   
   
They both looked at him as if he was mad.  
   
“Well, I can see pears in the design”, Sam said defensively. “So I was wondering – a partridge in a pear tree?”  
   
Castiel turned the sweater over several times before finding the bird, which was almost invisible amongst the lush autumn colours.  
   
“Who’s it from?” Dean asked curiously.  
   
Castiel looked inside the box again, and extracted a card.  
   
“’From a secret admirer’” he said, looking puzzled. “Why would anyone want to admire me in secret?”  
   
“It’s what people do when they like someone, but are afraid to show it”, Sam explained. He looked suspiciously at his brother, who shook his head slightly. “I wonder if it’s Jolene at the gas station?”  
   
“No way!” Dean said derisively. “She even turned me down!”  
   
“Maybe she prefers Cas?” Sam suggested, enjoying the look of discomfort on his brother’s face. “Someone must like you a lot.”

Dean snorted, but Sam could see how uncomfortable he really was. Good.


	2. Two Turtle-Doves

The brothers were at the breakfast table the next morning when Castiel came in from his run. He was carrying another box, this time wrapped in black and white Christmas paper.   
   
“Another present, Cas?” Sam inquired.  
   
“Yes”, Castiel said, actually full-on smiling for once. Sam noticed how happy Dean looked to see this, though his elder brother quickly lowered his gaze back to his paper again. “I wonder what it can be this time?”  
   
“Probably another bloody sweater”, Dean groused.   
   
“Perhaps it’s got doves on it this time?” Sam suggested.  
   
“Why?” Castiel asked at once.   
   
“Well, it’s like the song”, Sam said. “Yesterday your true love shut up Dean sent you a partridge in a pear tree, so today they should send you two turtle doves. The Twelve Days of Christmas.”  
   
Dean scowled in the background. Castiel carefully opened his present, ignoring the heavy sighs from the elder Winchester, and pulled out another sweater. And gasped in delight.  
   
“Oh, this is beautiful!”  
   
“It’s grey, black and white, Cas”, Dean snorted. “Nothing to write home about.”  
   
Castiel turned the back of the sweater round to face Dean, and he stared in surprise. The front might be a swirl of the three colours, but the back was carefully sculpted into two pairs of beautiful grey wings, with flecks of black and white.  
   
“My human wings!” Castiel said happily, replacing his partridge sweater from yesterday with the new one. Both brothers could see there was a tear in his blue eyes. “Someone is being very kind.”  
   
“More likely they just want sex”, Dean muttered, louder than he had intended.  
   
“Not everyone is like you, Dean”, Sam said reprovingly. “It looks good on you, Cas.”  
   
“Thank you, Sam.”

+~+~+

Sam knew that attack was the best form of defense with his brother, so immediately Castiel had gone upstairs, he challenged him.

“You're doing this, aren't you?”

“No!” Dean protested. “This is way too chick-flick for me! Some bastard is stringing him along.”

“Perhaps someone really does like him”, Sam said, not missing the brief look of alarm on his brother''s face. “He deserves a little romance, after everything he's been through.”

“Hmph!” Dean grunted.


	3. Three French Hens

Because Sam was a bit of a bastard (scratch the ‘a bit of’ when dealing with his elder brother), he went out with Castiel that morning and carried the inevitable box back for him, sneaking it into the bunker before hurrying to the kitchen in time to catch Dean’s triumphal look.   
   
“No pressie today, then”, he said, looking far too pleased with himself.  
   
“Sam carried it back for me”, Castiel said, happily inhaling his second coffee of the morning.   
   
Sam could almost hear the thud as his brother’s face fell in disappointment. He slipped away and returned with the box, this time one wrapped in dark blue paper.   
   
“Open it, Cas, and see what they’ve sent you”, he urged, stifling a grin as his brother gave him the stink-eye.

“Ten-to-one, another bloody sweater!” Dean groused.  
   
Castiel reluctantly put down his coffee and carefully removed the paper, before looking down into the box. Then he blushed.  
   
“Oh my!” he said softly.  
   
“What is it?” Dean demanded, reaching in and pulling the new sweater out. “Oh….”  
   
It was dark blue, like the paper, but what made it different was the front, knitted to mimic a French maid’s outfit.  
   
“Didn’t you once say you’d have to be a maid to support yourself if you came here, Cas?” Sam asked innocently.  
   
“Yes, I told Dean….” He stopped and looked cautiously across at the elder Winchester.  
   
“You said that in the bar, in front of about fifty people!” Dean said defensively. “Well? Put it on!”  
   
Castiel reluctantly removed the previous day’s sweater, and changed into the new one. It did indeed make him look very…. maidish.  
   
“You look…. good”, Dean said quietly.  
   
“Yeah, you could crash the world wide web with a picture like that!” Sam laughed.   
   
Castiel smiled shyly, but kept the sweater on, and resumed his coffee. Dean dragged Sam out of the kitchen.  
   
“Who the hell is doing this?” he demanded.  
   
“Why are you so upset?” Sam countered. “He’s finally found someone who loves him enough to do the sort of chick-flick things he really adores. You should be happy for him.”  
   
“Yea, but this could be some kind of creep”, Dean insisted. “I don’t want to see the little guy get hurt.”  
   
You want him for yourself, Sam thought happily, but didn’t say anything.  
   
Yet.


	4. Four Colly Birds

Castiel paused before opening the box, wrapped rather oddly in uniform black paper.  
   
“What is the rhyme for today, Sam?” he asked.  
   
Dean snorted from across the table.   
   
“Four colly birds”, Sam said. “Which explains the paper, I suppose, as colly means black.”  
   
“Looks morbid to me!” Dean snapped. “Come on feather-boy, open it!”  
   
Castiel glared at him for the insult, but carefully removed the wrapping, and extracted the inevitable sweater. Sam gave a whistle.  
   
“Impressive! It's Escher on steroids!””  
   
It was a mosaic of multicoloured birds, all carefully shaped so they slotted into each other. Castiel quickly found the four that were actually black.   
   
“I love it!” he said enthusiastically.  
   
“What happens when they send you one you don’t like?” Dean sniped.   
   
“Oh, they always put the receipt in an envelope at the bottom”, the angel said airily.   
   
“So why not use your angel mojo on it and find out who the sender is, then?” Dean asked curiously.  
   
“I like having a secret admirer”, Castiel smiled. Dean looked like he was about to reply, but the happy look on the angel's face seemed to take the wind out of his sails, and he slumped back as Castiel changed into his new sweater.  
   
+~+~+  
   
“Sammy, I’ve got an idea.”  
   
Sam groaned inwardly. What was his brother up to?  
   
“What is it?” he asked.  
   
“I’m going to email Charlie and get her to hack the credit card number on the receipt.”  
   
Damn! Sam hadn’t thought of that.  
   
“Better let me do it, then”, he said. “She’s still angry with you over that last cosplay thing you wrecked.”  
   
“Hey! No-one told me I couldn’t hit on people there.”  
   
“You hit on three of them, Dean”, Sam said patiently. “One of them the local president, who nearly banned Charlie as a result! You take Cas out this afternoon, and I’ll email her the details to and ask her to dig around a bit.”  
   
“’Kay.”


	5. Five Gold Rings

Sam knew this had been one of his better ideas of the twelve, but when he saw Castiel starting to tear up as he looked into the box that morning, he felt more than a tad guilty.   
   
“It’s… beautiful”, the angel said, suppressing a sob as he extracted the sweater.  
   
“It’s a freakin’ bee costume!” Dean said, puzzled.  
   
“Five gold rings”, Sam said. “Very clever. Perhaps your secret admirer knows you like bees.”  
   
“I love this one best of all!” Castiel declared, pulling it on.   
   
Dean grunted, but Sam could see the angel’s happiness had got through to him, judging from the hint of a smile that was forcing itself up at the corner of his mouth. Castiel took his coffee and left the room, gently fondling the sweater as he went.  
   
“Charlie says it will take a few days, but she should have something by the New Year”, Sam said, once the angel had gone. “Lots of systems are shut down over the hols, apparently.”  
   
Dean grunted in disappointment.  
   
“This guy had better treat him right.”  
   
“What makes you think it’s a guy?” Sam asked curiously.  
   
“Just a feeling”, his brother replied. “It's something a guy would do that's way too girly. Like something out of a Hallmark movie!”  
   
“It could be his perfect partner, perhaps?” Sam suggested.  
   
Dean snorted again, and buried himself in his comic.


	6. Six Geese A-Laying

Dean definitely did not laugh when he saw the sweater for the next day.  
   
Well, not that much. And he almost managed to cover it up, though not almost enough to avoid a sharp glare from the angel who was examining sweater number six. It had six rows of dancing eggs, except in each row there was one goose.  
   
“Looks like your geese have already laid, Cas”, he chuckled.  
   
The angel removed the sweater from the day before, and Dean was surprised to see he had no vest on underneath it. There was just Castiel’s bare and surprisingly muscled chest, a trail of dark hair leading down all the way to…  
   
Dean managed to dig his mind out of the gutter, and glared at his brother across the table. Sam did himself no favours at all by sniggering quietly. He was definitely getting yoghurt in his shampoo again.  
   
“We’re out of yoghurt, Dean” the angel said calmly.  
   
Dean jumped as if he had been shot.  
   
“What?” he gasped.  
   
Castiel looked confused.  
   
“You asked me to tell you when I used the last of anything”, he said flatly. “I had a yoghurt last night.”  
   
Dean eyed him cautiously. He knew Castiel could read his mind, but the angel had promised not to, and he was fairly sure he could rely on his word. He went over to the fridge to check, and sure enough, they were out of yoghurt. Dean sighed, and added it to the shopping list.  
   
+~+~+  
   
That evening, something prompted him to look in on the angel before he went to bed. The little nerd was curled up on his bed, with all six sweaters piled on top of and around him, smiling as if at peace with the world. He looked so happy.  
   
Dean went to his own bedroom, wondering why he didn’t exactly share that happiness.


	7. Seven Swans A-Swimming

Castiel looked up expectantly at Sam.  
   
“Seven swans a-swimming”, the younger Winchester grinned.  
   
Castiel grinned back, and carefully opened the box. Sam smirked as his brother tried to feign disinterest whilst peering over the top of his paper.  
   
What Castiel drew out first looked like an exercise in orange and blue gone horribly wrong, but as Dean stared at it, he got it. There were seven rows of swan beaks, all different he supposed, whilst between them were seven blue wavy lines, the same colour as the angel’s wonderfully gorgeous eyes….. and Dean stopped that train of thought before it left the station.   
   
“I need another shower”, Castiel beamed. “I’ll change into it after.”  
   
He left the table, smiling broadly.   
   
“He looks really happy, doesn’t he?” Sam said, sipping his tea.  
   
Dean didn’t answer until he could hear the shower running. 

“So what did Charlie say?” he demanded.

“Says she's coming over with the findings tomorrow”, Sam said. Fortunately Charlie had agreed to go along with his plan.

“Does she know who it is?” Dean asked.

“I think so”, his brother replied. “But she was being very mysterious about it. You'll find out next year, Dean.”

“Very funny!”

+~+~+

“I like having a secret admirer!”

Castiel had sat on the sofa whilst Dean was watching Dr Sexy M.D. Or trying to watch; the nerdy little angel in that impossibly cute sweater was a major distraction.

“This guy could be a total douche, Cas”, Dean said gruffly. “He probably only wants you for sex.”

“That would be okay.”

Dean spluttered.

“What?” he gasped out.

“I've learnt from you that humans can enter all sorts of relationships, many where the sole purpose is sexual gratification with no long-term prospects at all”, Castiel said dryly. “If they're nice enough to send me these lovely things, then they must be a good person, anyway. I do hope I get to meet them soon.”

Dean snarled to himself, and tried to focus on the television, and not on the way the sweater hung on those narrow shoulders and over those impossibly sexy hips.... no, he was definitely not thinking of those hips.

Not until he was safely back in his room with the door locked.


	8. Eight Maids A-Milking

“Oh my god, you look like a freakin' cow!”

Dean would have carried on laughing, but the hurt look on the angel's face stopped him in his tracks. Castiel carefully put on the eighth sweater, which was designed with black and white splodges like a cow, but with eight maids a-milking in the white ones. 

“Ignore the ignoramus, Cas”, Charlie grinned from across the table. “I think it looks great on you.”

Castiel beamed at her, whilst Dean scowled.

“Did you find out who his secret admirer was, girl?” he asked curtly.

She looked at Castiel, who nodded.

“I don't mind them trying to find out”, he said.

“He's a stalker, isn't he?” Dean blurted out.

“Far from it”, Charlie said. “The credit card transactions were registered to one Maximilian Eustace Lowell – yes, related to those Lowells. He owns a huge house and several other properties, as well as a yacht. He called in at the Gas-n-Sip on his way back to his house in November, and he's been calling in there regularly ever since, even though it's nowhere near his normal route to any of his places.”

“I don't remember him”, Castiel mused.

“He normally dresses down; he doesn't like to flaunt his wealth. Which, by the way, is massive; he could buy a decent sized portion of this state and still have change left over! You lucky dog, Cas!”

“A millionaire!” Sam enthused, looking sideways at what was most definitely a dispirited elder brother. 

Castiel took Charlie away to show her his other sweaters, and Sam looked hard at his brother.

“You can't say you didn't have your chance, Dean”, he said gently. 

To his surprise and consternation, his brother let out something suspiciously like a sob.

“I know!” Dean almost wailed. “But how on earth is he going to want me when he could have a millionaire?”

“He's still an angel”, Sam said gently. “He could easily mojo up anything this guy could give him, and more. Why don't you at least tell him how you....”

“No, Sam! Never! And don't you dare breathe a word of this to him, or that interfering harpy, right?”

He stormed from the room. Sam waited until he had gone, then smiled.


	9. Nine Ladies Dancing

Charlie had left late the previous evening, after having enthused over Cas' now even bigger sweater collection – over a hundred of the dratted things, Dean figured - which was housed in its own room in the bunker next to the angel's. Sam, however, was beginning to feel a little uneasy about the whole thing. His brother was visibly suffering, and now he was the one casting wistful glances at the angel, who seemed as oblivious to the hunter’s attentions as Dean had been to his barely two weeks before. Poetic justice, Sam supposed.  
   
Dean couldn’t even raise a facetious comment about the ninth sweater, which was white with miniature coloured footsteps all over it.  
   
“I don’t understand”, the angel said, looking perplexed.  
   
“Nine ladies dancing”, Sam said. “It’s all dance steps, in shades of pink. Cute.”  
   
“Yeah, real cute”, Dean groused from behind his book.   
   
“Oh”, Castiel said. “There’s something in the bottom.”  
   
“The receipt?” Sam asked.  
   
“And a letter”, the angel said, pulling out an envelope and opening it. He read the contents, then actually blushed.  
   
“He wants to meet me”, he said, sounding awestruck. “He actually wants to come here and meet me on the 5th.” He looked up at the brothers, and his expression was one of panic. “What am I going to do?”  
   
“Well, see him, I guess”, Sam offered.  
   
“Guy could still be a total creep”, Dean said, looking as if he hoped rather than really thought it.  
   
“We’ll be here, anyway, Cas”, Sam said reassuringly.   
   
“What shall I wear?” The angel was actually starting to sweat.  
   
“A sweater!” Dean sniped.  
   
“That blue-green top, and those tight jeans”, Sam said, glaring at his brother. “You look really good in them.”  
   
“Thanks, Sam”, Castiel smiled, calming down a little. “I haven’t worn them in a while. I’ll go and make sure they're clean.”  
   
He almost bounced out of the room. Sam stared happily after him, then winced as his brother cuffed him on his head.   
   
“Hey! What was that for?”  
   
Dean scowled at him.  
   
“Traitor!” he hissed, before storming from the room.   
   
Sam grinned after him.


	10. Ten Lords A-Leaping

Sam and Dean stared at the tenth sweater.  
   
“Well, he’s clearly educated”, the younger Winchester said at last.  
   
“I don’t get it”, the angel said, looking as confused as he usually did. “I thought you said it was ten lords a-leaping, Sam?”  
   
Sam suddenly slapped his thigh.  
   
“I get it!” he almost shouted. “Applaud, extol, admire, praise – they’re all synonyms for the word ‘laud’, L-A-U-D. Not lord, L-O-R-D. That’s really clever.”  
   
“Show-off”, Dean muttered.  
   
“I hope it shows how he really feels about me”, Castiel smiled. Again, Sam noted, not his usual slight crinkling at the edges of the eyes smile but the full Castiel version. “I’ve never had someone appreciate me as a human being before. Most people just treat me like I am some kind of freak, just because I don’t understand humanity.”  
   
“Wait till this guy finds out you’re a friggin’ angel”, Dean smirked. “Then he’ll treat you different, you mark my words.”  
   
Castiel suddenly rounded on him.  
   
“But you didn’t treat me any differently those times I was a human, Dean”, he pointed out. “You still kept telling me about ‘personal space’ and all that.”  
   
“Ah. Well. That was different.” The elder Winchester seemed to be floundering, unhelped by his younger brother’s barely hidden smirk.  
   
“Why?” Castiel asked at once.  
   
Dean seemed to struggle for a moment before he rallied.  
   
“Because you went from all-powerful angel of the Lord to just a short, nerdy guy in a trench-coat, Cas.”  
   
The minute he said it, he seemed to realize he’d made a mistake. Castiel looked at him as if he’d struck him.  
   
“I lost the trench-coat, Dean”, he said in a small voice, before taking his box and silently leaving the room, sniffing quietly to himself.   
   
“That was low!” Sam hissed after he was gone. ”What were you thinking, man?”  
   
Dean put his head in his hands.  
   
“He just provoked me!” he said resignedly. “I’ve gotta go apologize to him.”  
   
He left the room, looking totally dejected.

+~+~+

By the end of the day, Dean Winchester was a wreck. He'd tried everything to make it up to the angel – frequent coffees, setting his favorite nature programs up on the DVD, laying a fire for him in the TV room – but the angel still kept looking warily at him every time he approached, and seemed to cower away each time he drew near. Dean was glad to turn in at the end of the day, though his dreams were punctuated by images of a happy Castiel being driven along in an open-top sports car, the wind blowing his impossible hair into an even greater mess, his face happy with laughter at his good fortune, his millionaire smiling beside him....

Dean punched his pillow and swore.


	11. Eleven Pipers Piping

Castiel held the new sweater up, and gasped with delight. Then he glared sharply at Dean, as if daring him to say something derogatory about it. Dean cringed, and immediately made a zipping motion across his lips.  
   
“Well, it’s someone who knows how much you love your coffee!” Sam laughed. “Eleven coffee machines piping into eleven mugs.”  
   
Castiel smiled.  
   
“Yes, he…. oh!”  
   
The angel stopped, looking startled.  
   
“What is it, Cas?” Sam asked.  
   
“I think I know who it is!” Castiel said slowly. “I remember him, the first time he came in two months ago. He ordered two coffees to keep him and his driver awake, and he bought me one as well because I was so tired. Oh, he was wonderful! And those eyes! So deep and brown and… just lovely!”  
   
“Could be totally a different guy”, Dean said dismissively.   
   
“I’m sure it’s him!” the angel insisted. “I’m so looking forward to seeing him tomorrow! He was so nice and kind, and… he even helped me by holding the ladder when I was shelf stocking. I can’t wait until tomorrow!”  
   
He took the coffee-themed sweater and left for his room, smiling broadly. Dean stared after him miserably.  
   
“Less than twenty-four hours for you to make a move”, his brother pointed out.   
   
Dean glared at him.   
   
“And don’t get drunk so you can pluck up enough courage before you do!” Sam said.   
   
“Dammit, Sammy, I was not….”  
   
Sam raised a quizzical eyebrow at him. Dean sighed heavily.  
   
“All right, perhaps I was. But man, this is Cas! He’s friggin’ died for me. I can’t screw over the guy’s love life as well!”  
   
“If you don’t do something soon, that’s not going to be a problem, Dean. Because someone else will be screwing him over first!”  
   
Dean glared at him, then slouched outside to the Impala. He needed a long drive in Baby to clear his head.

Once his brother had gone, Sam phoned Charlie to make sure arrangements were in place for the 'millionaire's' arrival. If Dean hadn't made a move by the twelfth day, there would be a letter announcing a 24-hour delay, then one of Charlie's friends who was also an actor would arrive and play the part. If that didn't provoke Dean into action, nothing would!


	12. Twelve Drummers Drumming

“Riiiiiight”, Sam said slowly. “That’s a little freaky.”  
   
The twelfth sweater might, perhaps, have been one of the more ordinary ones. Twelve soldiers drumming away – except the one in the very front and center of the sweater had blue eyes and a trench-coat.   
   
“A psychic millionaire?” Sam suggested.  
   
“It’s a sign”, Castiel said softly. “He never saw me in one, but he pictured it. Just a few more hours, and….”  
   
“That's it! I've had enough!”  
   
Castiel and Sam turned to look at Dean in surprise as he shot to his feet.   
   
“I’ve had it up to here with this guy, Cas!” Dean almost shouted. “I know he’s got mansions and yachts and cars and all that crap, but he doesn’t really know you! You need someone who can love you for what you are!”  
   
“But I don’t have anyone like that, Dean”, Castiel objected.  
   
“Yes you do! Me, dammit! I love you!”  
   
He looked as shocked as everyone else on the table the minute he said it, but he didn’t take back the words. Castiel looked at him in amazement for what seemed like an age, then walked slowly round to his side of the table, his face suddenly determined. When he spoke, his voice was at its smitey best.   
   
“I want you naked, in your room, in five minutes!”  
   
Dean gulped, then nodded frantically, almost falling over his feet as he scrabbled through the door. Castiel turned to look at Sam.   
   
“Two things, Sam”, he said quietly. “Firstly, I strongly advise you against going anywhere near your brother’s room for the rest of the day, and for that matter, most of tomorrow. Do you understand?”  
   
“Er, yeah”, Sam ground out. “I understand.”  
   
“And secondly”, the angel said sternly, before suddenly laughing out loud. “Sam, really! A millionaire?”  
   
Sam stared at him in shock.  
   
“You… you knew?”  
   
Castiel grinned at him.   
   
“Thanks for your efforts”, he said, laughing at Sam’s thunderstruck face. “And I love the sweaters! But I really don’t want to keep your brother waiting any longer. He’s kept me waiting long enough as it is. Have a good day – I know I will!”  
   
And with that the angel all but sprinted from the room. Sam stared after him, and slowly began to smile.

“Welcome to the family, you devious bastard!”


End file.
